The sphere of roots creaked, shuddering for a moment. The dry sound of strained wood echoed like bones on the verge of breaking, vibrating through the ash-choked air.
At the same time, the Lady of Cinder tilted her head, curious about the flawless resistance of such a simple shield. The magma within her cracks pulsed with fire-colored hues, glowing faintly as it illuminated her fractured skin—as if it responded to her curiosity with a life of its own.
The creaking intensified, revealing cracks across the surface of the sphere. Tiny particles of gray dust fell from the fissures, floating slowly before vanishing into the heated air.
Inside the sphere, Monar took a breath, calming his heart and returning to that same serenity as before. The sound of his inhale faded into the echoes outside. He slowly raised his hands toward his own eyes and said:
"Let's begin."
